Through the Maze
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: After seeing a mysterious face at his window, Tim scomes across a secret passageway at NCIS and inadvertantly stumbles into danger. Written for the NFA Secret Santa Fic Exchange.
1. Chapter 1

Most of the people who knew about the nearly catastrophic event would have claimed it began and ended with finding the secret passage. Only a select number of people had any idea that, for Tim, the ordeal had begun almost a week earlier. It was a week in mid-December when the temperature was reaching the low 30s and the clouds seemed to be filling up with snow; that's when the face appeared for the first time…

* * *

><p>"Hey, Jethro," Tim said in a weary greeting to his eager dog. Jethro was jumping with excitement at the sight of his master, running rings around Tim's feet as he walked, trying desperately not to step on the poor pup's tail. "One quick trip outside, okay? Then we both need to get some sleep."<p>

It wasn't that the work day had been particularly heavy for Tim and the rest of the team or that he'd been having any trouble sleeping that made Tim yearn for his warm, comfortable bed. But it was the holiday season and despite bringing a sense of cheer each year, it also had a habit of weighing heavily on his shoulders. Gifts had to be bought and wrapped. Holiday plans needed to be made and tickets purchased. Arrangements had to be made for Jethro to stay at the kennel. And this year Abby had volunteered him to help set up for the NCIS Christmas party which meant buying decorations, helping put up the tree, and taking care of other odds and ends so that the NCIS employees and their families could enjoy a night of festivities for the holiday season. This on top of his normal work load had him practically sleepwalking through the days.

After letting Jethro relieve himself, Tim brought him back inside and gave him a bone to occupy his attention. He was grateful that his neighbor had volunteered to feed Jethro during the week because Tim barely had enough energy to reheat the meatloaf he had in the fridge, let alone worry about Jethro's dinner.

The clock on his nightstand stated that it was only 9:30, but it felt so much later than that as he pulled on a T-shirt and slipped under the covers. He clicked on the TV, hoping to catch a weather report before falling asleep. They were predicting a big snow sometime this week and he wanted to be ready for it.

"Christmas time really shouldn't be this difficult, huh, boy?" he asked as Jethro padded up to the bed, bone in mouth. He looked up at Tim innocently, hoping his master would grab the bone and play with him a little. Instead, Tim gently pet Jethro's head, scratching him behind his ears as he waited for the weather man to appear on screen. "Hopefully once the new year comes I can rest a little more."

He stifled a yawn and let his eyes droop slightly. His head tilted to the side, shifting his focus to the bedroom window.

That's when he saw it.

At first he wasn't sure he was seeing anything at all. It looked more like a blur against the window pane than anything else. The glass was frosted from the cold, so it was difficult to tell just what it was that had cast the dark shadow against it. But then the eyes—and at this point he was sure they were eyes—flickered over to him and he saw a mouth twist upward into a smile.

Tim shot up in his bed, surprising Jethro who retreated back a few steps. The adrenaline rushed through Tim, giving him newfound energy as he grabbed his coat, shoes, and gun and rushed out. He sped through the front door of his building and bound around the side. Pressing himself against the wall, he crept toward the corner as quietly as he could, trying to keep his heavy breathing at bay. Once he reached the corner, he readied his weapon and then spun around it, poised and ready to shoot.

But there was no one there. The patch of grass in front of his window was completely empty. He looked around, keeping his weapon ready should there be an ambush. No sign of anyone else there, though. No sounds of footsteps or breathing or…well, anything. All he heard was the faint sound of his television, which he had left on, coming from inside the apartment.

He approached the window and looked down into the mud. No footprints. The ground was still even and undisturbed. How could anyone have been standing there at all?

_I must be more sleepy than I thought_, was the only explanation that came to mind. Feeling quite silly, Tim holstered his weapon escaped the chilly air. Jethro was looking at him in confusion as he returned to his apartment. Tim could only respond with a shrug. "Just a figment of my imagination, I guess." That seemed good enough for Jethro, who returned to gnawing at his bone.

But it wasn't quite good enough for Tim. "You know," he muttered, "the weird thing is it kind of looked like Kate." The eyes, the smile, the hair, the bone structure. It had all reminded him of his former teammate. "Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks."

Soon, he was in a deep sleep, no longer thinking about the mysterious face at his window.

* * *

><p>Now, if Tim had taken just a little more time to look at the window when he'd been outside, he may have noticed that along the bottom left of the window was a small word etched into the blanket of frost, as if with a finger. <em>Danger<em>.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, any more ghostly visits, Probie?"

Tim sighed and wished he could bury his head into his desk. His hands seemed as close as he was going to get. It had been five days since the apparition at his window and he hadn't seen her since then. Yet, he still felt a sense of dread each night as he went to bed, as though he knew in his gut that something terrible was going to happen.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," Tim mumbled. The night after if happened, Tim had, in a moment of stupidity, revealed to Tony and Ziva that he had seen someone at his window. Both had exchanged amused looks at the thought, clear that neither believed him.

"Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of! We all get visited by ghosts, right, Ziva?"

Even Ziva couldn't help a small chuckle at Tim's expense.

"Why, just the other day Jimmy Stewart dropped in for a few minutes."

"Tony, can you just let it go? I admit I was tired and was probably just imagining it."

"Maybe it was the Ghost of Christmas Past! You have kind of been acting like a Scrooge lately."

Tim snorted, face still buried in his hands. "Please, Tony. I think if anyone's getting visits from Dickens' Christmas ghosts it'll be Gibbs."

"That a fact, McGee?" asked an icy tone.

"No, sir," Tim stammered, inwardly curing himself for saying that aloud. He also sent a glare to both Tony and Ziva for not telling him Gibbs was there.

"Since you all seem to have enough time to tell Christmas stories, how about making yourselves useful?" The trio sat up in their seats, wincing as they considered what menial task was to be thrown at them. "DiNozzo, the supply closet on the third floor needs some cleaning and inventory. David, We've got cases that need to be filed. McGee…"

Tim held his breath, sure he was going to be assigned to cleaning bathroom stalls or something.

"…Abby needs you down in her lab. Something to do with the thing tonight."

"Thanks, boss," he said, letting out a sigh. It wasn't cleaning bathrooms at least, but he knew Abby had a lot on her to-do list—_his _to-do list, rather—and she knew the team didn't have any open cases at the moment, giving him lots of free time.

* * *

><p>As expected, Abby's task was related to the party that evening. All NCIS employees were invited to attend, along with their significant others. This meant they would be occupying a large space of the building and a lot of decorating had to be done before then. "I would do it," Abby said, "but I'm up to my eyeballs in fingerprints, hair fibers, and blood samples. Since you have so much time, I figured you could take care of it."<p>

_Of course_, Tim thought wryly, _I'm your go-to guy_. "Yeah, Abbs," he said, "I can get it started."

"Good!" she said, engulfing him in a tight hug. "I knew I could count on you! Now, I stored all of the decorations in the storage closet in the sub-basement. It's to the left when you get off the elevator. Just keep walking until you get to the first hallway on the right and go all the way to the end of the hall. We've got lights, garland, ornaments, mistletoe, candles, and candy canes in there. Oh! I also bought some of those skull and spider Christmas lights and some mistletoe that have little bats instead of holly berries, so be sure to put those up. I mean, we don't want a completely normal décor, right? Just make sure you don't break anything because Director Vance told me that we can't buy anymore new ones for at least five more Christmases since I kind of went crazy this time around. Okay? You got that, McGee?"

"Yeah," he said as he rubbed his eyes, "I've got it."

She pulled him into another hug. "Thanks. Oh, and don't listen to Tony. I think seeing a ghost is really cool."

Tim held back a groan, but he didn't argue the point. "I'll get as much put up as I can. Just come help when you get a chance. We've got a lot of ground to cover."

* * *

><p>The sub-basement area was pretty deserted. Reserved mostly for special projects and storage, it was rare stopped down there. When Tim stepped off the elevator he felt a chill come over the air and wrapped his arms around himself. Now, Abby had said to go left and keep walking to the first hallway on the right…<p>

_Tim_.

The voice came softly brushing against him like a breath of air. He turned toward it and fell back against the wall, putting out a hand to steady himself. "K-Kate?"

Indeed, it was his former teammate, back to haunt him once more. She smiled at him, but said nothing more. Instead, she turned and began walking to the right of the elevator. Tim instinctively followed her, even though he didn't completely believe she was real. _I'm dreaming_, he thought. _I really do need more sleep_.

But she seemed so real as he trailed behind her. Sure, she was transparent and seemed to glide more than walk, but there was still something quite tangible about her, almost making him reach out and take her hand.

_Danger_.

"What does that mean?" he asked, but she didn't respond. Instead, she increased her pace, soaring forward and leaving Tim to break into a run. She rounded the corner and he sped around it to, only to be stopped by something hard.

"Oof!" Tim looked down to see Frank Keller, a low-level technician whom he'd met during his brief stint in Cyber Crimes, sprawled across the floor, the papers he'd been carrying now all over the place..

"Sorry, Frank," Tim said, holding out his hand to help him up.

"It's no problem, Agent McGee, but where's the fire?"

"I thought I saw…" Tim stopped himself before saying too much. Telling Tony and the team was one thing; telling someone he only knew as an acquaintance was another. Instead, he shook his head and explained, "Gibbs is on my case and I don't want to keep him waiting."

"Oh, I get that," Frank said with a laugh. Everyone knew of Gibbs' impatience. "I've been banished down here to go through the electronics we've got stored and figure out what's salvageable and what can be trashed or recycled. What about you?"

"I'm on Christmas party duty. I'll be the one underfoot putting up decorations."

"Want to trade?" Frank asked jokingly. Tim was tempted to take him up on it.

Frank waved him off before going on his own way and Tim carefully peeked around the corner. No Kate here. Tim sighed. He _must_ be going nuts.

* * *

><p>The decorations were easy enough to find and sort. Abby had been kind enough to mark all of the boxes with detailed descriptions of contents. There was a box for lights, one for wreaths, and even one for Santa decorations. Tim had managed to collect most of them and place them on the dolly for easy transport, but he was having trouble finding the box of gothic-themed decorations that Abby had purchased. Knowing she would be upset if she didn't see her unique decorations up as well, Tim did a full search of the storage room, checking every inch of the space.<p>

Finally, he spotted a lone box on top of one of the shelves, marked with a hand-drawn skull. Tim grabbed the small step ladder and reached up to take the box.

_Hi, Tim_.

This time Tim let out a yelp when he saw Kate. He lost his footing and fell from the ladder, hitting the ground at the same time as the box. The sound of shattering lights made him wince. Abby was going to chew him out for that. But he hardly had time to worry about that now that he had this pounding headache. At least it didn't feel like he had broken any bones.

With a low moan, Tim's eyes fluttered open. He realized he could feel a cool breeze blowing against his face, a breeze that hadn't been in that room before. Furthermore, from this position, lying prone on the ground, he saw that one section of the wall didn't completely reach the floor as the others did. In fact, it looked quite hollow, as though there was an opening behind it.

Getting to his feet took a great deal of effort and, once standing, he was overcome with dizziness. But Tim stumbled to the wall and began running his hand along the wood, hoping to find a crevice or someplace to grab.

_The right side_. _Top_.

He didn't look for the voice; he just followed the instructions. Sure enough, there was a small groove along the top right, enough for Tim to get a grip and pull. Then panel slid inward, falling in place behind the other section of the wall. In its place was a long passageway. What it led to, Tim couldn't tell. It was dark and looked as though it hadn't been travelled in some time.

Normally such a find would have sent Tim running to Vance to let him know of his find. This time, though, Tim couldn't help the urge to explore. He grabbed a flashlight from one of the boxes and stepped into the passageway, wondering if anyone else knew of this. How long had this secret passageway been hidden? What secrets did it hold in store? It must have been there for some time if no one there knew of it.

The dust filled the air, making him cough more than once. He felt some thin, cotton-like fabrics brush against him. He knew they were spider webs, but decided if he couldn't see them he could pretend they were something else. Instead, he kept the light steady, focusing on what was ahead.

It was impossible to tell just where he was or how far underground he was. If the passage entrance was in the sub-basement it was a sure bet he wasn't near street level. The passageway had many different turns and twists. Soon, Tim didn't even know how far he was from the entrance. He could have been standing under the White House for all he knew.

He was just thinking that he should turn around and head back when a voice interrupted his thoughts.

"We are set then?"

"Once he returns we may begin set up."

They spoke in thick accents, but their words sent a chill down Tim's spine. It was obvious they weren't friends to NCIS.

Slowly, Tim began taking steps backwards, hoping not to attract attention. He stiffened when his back hit something that felt suspiciously like a gun.

"Sorry about this, Agent McGee." The words were followed by a swift knock to the head and Tim crumbled into a heap.


	3. Chapter 3

Frank Keller looked down at Tim with only a little remorse. He hadn't intended for Tim to stumble upon this, but he was a good as dead anyway. The NCIS Christmas party that evening was going to go out with a bang—quite literally.

"Get him over there," he ordered the two men who promptly grabbed Tim and dragged him to where their custom-made bombs were. With a zip tie they bound his arms behind his back.

"If someone followed him?" one of the men asked.

"No one did. I was the only one behind him and I closed the passage door. Don't worry about him. You just set everything up. The sooner this is done, the sooner I get paid."

Frank had never intended to become a criminal. Ever a bright boy, people had thought he would go far in the world of computers, maybe even be the next Steve Jobs or Bill Gates. But that wasn't in the cards for him. Instead of going to a school like MIT or CalTech, Frank had had to settle for a cheaper school, one that wouldn't look quite so impressive on a resume. Despite his talents and his multiple degrees, he was constantly passed over for jobs in favor of the students whose parents could afford to send them to prestigious schools.

Like Tim McGee.

The more he thought about it, the more Frank was pleased with this turn of events. In fact, it gave him an idea.

"Get the bombs set up," he said to his two helpers, "but I'll handle the rest."

The only job Frank had been able to get was a low-level tech job at NCIS. Everyone told him what a wonderful opportunity it was, that working for the government had so many perks and he should feel honored, but he knew it wasn't true. They were just saying that to make him feel better for ending up as a big nothing.

Stumbling upon the passageway had been sheer luck on his part, but he had seen the possibilities now open to him. Upon further inspection, he found that the exit on the other side of the tunnel led to an abandoned building just a few blocks west of Eastern Market. This meant people who wouldn't ordinarily be allowed into the Navy Yard could get in with no detection.

He had brought this find to a few conniving contacts, looking for the highest bidder. The one who offered the highest price was declared the winner, no questions asked. That winner was a militant anti-American group that was looking for the best way to strike back at the American military. Destruction of the Navy Yard—along with a government agency—seemed like as good a way as any. Frank had agreed to help set it up and make sure no one got in the way. After that, he would be paid a generous price and would skip the country and live the life he always believed he deserved.

Tim let out a low moan, earning another quick hit to the head to silence him.

Frank Keller would get exactly what he deserved. He'd see to that.

* * *

><p>Tim slowly came to, his mind spinning as he recalled how he had gotten here. He remembered going down to the sub-basement and finding the secret passageway. Then he had been walking along when something had hit him on the head.<p>

He heard whispered voices and craned his neck to see who he was speaking. With the tunnel so dark he could only see dark forms nearby.

"The party isn't starting for another hour. If we wait until then we'll have maximum damage."

"You are sure these will reach the top floors?"

"Trust me. Once these go off, the building will be destroyed along with anyone inside. They may look small, but they're deadly. We've placed them in the weakest parts of the structure, so they'll cause enough damage."

"What about him? Should we just leave him down here?"

"No. I've got a better idea."

One of the forms started walking over to Tim, flashlight in hand. Soon, he could make out a face. He felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

"Frank?" he asked weakly.

"Sorry, McGee. A guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."

"B-but why?"

"The price was right."

"So you'll kill all of those innocent people for money?"

"Don't pretend like you wouldn't do the same thing."

"I wouldn't!" Tim snapped with newfound strength. His outburst earned him a swift kick to the side. He grunted in pain and pulled his legs up so that he was in a fetal position.

"Get on out!" Frank yelled to the other two men. "Tell your boss it's set. Keep your TV on the news. I'm sure you'll be hearing about it in a couple of hours."

The two men did as told, sprinting in the opposite direction of where Tim had come. Frank, though, remained, and began picking up a few items. "I think you'll prefer being out for this," he said to Tim right before knocking him on the head once more.

With Tim unconscious, Frank grabbed a line of fishing wire and went to work setting up the tripwires, starting with the furthest one in and working his way back. Just to be safe, he even set one up at the entrance to the passageway.

There was no way Tim McGee would get out of this tunnel alive.

* * *

><p>"Where's McGee?" Gibbs asked later that day. The sky was beginning to dim and people were already beginning to arrive for the party. Tony and Ziva had finished their given tasks (well, Tony had skimped on a few things here and there, but does it really matter how many staples are in the supply room?) but Tim was still nowhere to be found.<p>

"I believe Abby has recruited him for decorating the building," Ziva said.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. The building didn't look any more decorated than it had this morning. "It's taking him this long."

"Probie has been looking sluggish lately. Maybe all those ghostly visitors—"

"I don't want to hear another word about any ghosts," Gibbs snapped. "McGee couldn't have gotten too far. See if you can track him down."

"McGee's going to be in a heap of trouble," Tony said with more glee than he should have.

"Playing decorator with Abby isn't exactly in his job description," Ziva agreed as they stepped into the elevator.

"I imagine he's in for the mother of all headsmacks. It'll take him a couple of days to recover."

* * *

><p>Tim was suffering from a blow to the head—three to be exact, and none with something so gentle as Gibbs' hand. As he came around once more, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. His mind was a blur, but he knew he was in danger along with everyone else at NCIS.<p>

"I'm really not a bad guy, McGee." It was Frank speaking in a calm, even tone. He knelt down behind Tim, just out of Tim's peripheral vision. Tim felt as Frank leaned over him, grabbing his neck. He only hissed a little bit as something pierced his skin. "To show you that, I'm going to give you a chance here."

"What chance?" Tim rasped.

"You have thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to get up to NCIS and warn everyone." Tim felt his hands release as Frank cut through the zip tie.

"That's not enough time."

"It's all the time I'm going to give you. Once I'm gone, your time will start. After thirty minutes have passed, I'll set off the bombs."

"You're just setting me up to fail."

"Maybe. But are you going to take the chance or are you just going to be a coward?"

He had Tim there. Even if he knew it was hopeless, he still had to try.

"What did you inject me with?"

"Just a little something to give me an edge. It won't kill you."

Tim pushed himself to his hands and knees, resisting the urge to throw up. He managed to pull himself to a standing position, leaning back against one of the cement walls. He looked Frank in the eye, hoping his gaze expressed the disdain and disappointment he felt in knowing that one of their own had turned against them.

"Go, McGee. I'll be waiting nearby."

Seeing no other option, Tim stumbled into the darkness with no flashlight to guide his way.

Frank grinned as he watched Tim go. He knew he had time to get to safe ground before Tim ran into one of the tripwires, but he wasn't going to wait around enjoying the sight. He beat a hasty retreat toward the exit. He would get dinner somewhere and wait to hear the news of the destruction. He had a detonator, but saw no reason to use it. The tunnel had now become a maze of booby traps and Tim—with no light and now drugged—didn't have a prayer.

Tim felt the urge to vomit once again, but he swallowed it down as he kept his pace. Whatever Frank had injected into him, it was taking its toll. Everything around him seemed to slow, even though in his mind he knew he needed to hurry.

He had just rounded a corner and was pushing himself to run when he heard a voice.

_Stop_.

It was Kate's voice, the same voice he'd been hearing all day. Tim halted quickly, causing him to tumble to the ground. "Kate," he muttered, "I have to hurry!"

_You have to look_.

Have to look? What did that even mean?

_Look where you are going_.

And so he did. He squinted in the darkness and saw what could have been a spider web just inches from his face. When he reached out to brush it aside, though, he realized it was no spider web. It was more solid, like a wire. "Tripwire," he muttered. Frank had set them up. That's why he had given Tim this "generous" chance. He'd hoped Tim would trip the wires, doing his dirty work for him.

_Slowly, Tim_.

"But I only have thirty minutes," he whispered. Or did he? Would Frank even bother detonating the bombs, seeing as he expected Tim to do all of the work?

_Careful_, Kate said. _I can lead you_.

At that, the tunnel lit up, as though someone behind him was holding a flashlight. He looked behind him, nearly blinded by the light coming from the blackness. He couldn't see who it was, but he knew it was Kate. She was there to guide him through this, no matter how long it took. And he wasn't about to give up.


	4. Chapter 4

Abby was not happy at the moment. After spending the day hard at work, she had slipped away to change for the party. When she'd come up to see the gorgeous decorations hung up around the building, she had found the same orange walls, completely uncovered, without a single holiday decoration anywhere in sight. Even her special decorations were nowhere to be seen. She checked every floor of the building, hoping that maybe the party had bee moved, but none of the rooms had any Christmas cheer. "McGee!" she grumbled. When she found him, she'd give him a piece of her mind. Unless…could he be hurt somewhere? The thought made her pale and set her running to find Gibbs, Tony, or Ziva. It didn't take long before she ran into the latter two.

"Where's Tim?" she asked before they could say anything.

"We are wondering the same thing," Ziva said. "We thought he was helping you decorate."

"Well, I got all this work sent down to me, so I asked him to start without me, but nothing has been put up." The three of them exchanged worried looks.

"Okay," Tony said, "let's just retrace his steps. Where were the decorations?"

"The sub-basement storage room."

"Then let's head there first. Abby, you go tell Gibbs."

She was poised to protest. "But—"

"No 'buts.' Go!"

"Do you think McGee is hurt?" Ziva asked as they rushed down the stairs, not even waiting for the elevator.

"Could be. It's not like him to flake, especially on Abby."

"Let us hope he has a guardian angel watching over him."

* * *

><p>Tim knew his thirty minute time limit had to be almost up by now. He had been slowly crawling along the tunnel ground, carefully looking for any tripwires before continuing on. His mind was growing fuzzy and his body was trembling with every inch forward he crawled, but he could hear Kate's voice in his ear telling him to continue on, giving him the strength he lacked.<p>

"Why are you here?" he asked aloud.

_To help you_.

"Is that why you were looking into my window?"

_I was trying to warn you_.

"So you led me down here? You brought me here to get hit over the head, drugged, and forced into this stupid game?"

_Someone needed to stop him_._ I knew you had the strength inside of you_.

"I'm not doing so hot right now, Kate. I don't think I can do this."

_You can, McGee. Just keep it slow. Keep going. Watch for the tripwire coming up._

He stopped just in time and managed to maneuver over it. "You're dead and you can see it better than I can."

_It's one of our few perks_.

"How much further do I have?"

_Not far_.

"Are you saying that because it's true or are you saying it to make me keep going?"

_A little of both_.

He crept forward and his hand landed in something that felt wet. "What is this?" he asked in disgust.

_It's better you not know_.

Tim decided to take her word on that.

* * *

><p>They found the storage room and saw that there were a number of boxes piled near the door. One box was turned over on its side, its contents spilled across the floor. "Abby will not be happy about that," Tony said as he looked at the shattered skull and spider lights.<p>

"You don't think that's why he's missing, do you?"

"What? To avoid the wrath of Abby?" Tony shook his head. "Even McGee knows that doesn't work."

"So where did he go?"

They looked around the storage room, checking for any other signs of a struggle, including—heaven forbid—blood. Aside from the spilt box, though, everything looked to be in order.

Tony was the first to begin examining the walls. He ran a hand along the far side wall, gently tapping his fingers against it. When he reached the removable panel, he felt the wall fall inward when he pressed his weight against it. "I think this panel is different from the rest," he told Ziva. "Maybe McGee found some sort of secret room."

"This is not a movie, Tony."

"Hey, these things do happen." He felt along the surface until his fingers gripped the groove. With a look of satisfaction, he began pushing it open.

"Stop!" Ziva shouted.

Tony obeyed. "What is it?"

"Wire," she said, pointing to a thin line running from the moving wall to the stationary one. It was nearly invisible.

"I think I'm going to start calling you Eagle Eye David."

"In Mossad you learn to observe," she said as she pulled her knife from its place. "It looks like a tripwire."

"For what?"

"I do not know, but I'm sure it's nothing good." She cut through the wire and, once satisfied, gave Tony the go ahead to continue.

"Wow," he said breathlessly once they were staring into the dark tunnel, "this _is_ like something out of a movie. You think McGee went through here?"

"Perhaps," Ziva replied, "but I do not think he set up that tripwire, or this." Her flashlight was pointing at the bomb positioned near the entry way. Obviously that's what was supposed to have gone off when they opened the wall.

"Oh, this is not good," Tony said. "This is not good at all. We need to tell Gibbs."

"McGee could be in trouble. You go get Gibbs, I will keep looking for him."

"Why you?"

"Because, Tony, I have more experience disarming bombs. If this," she said, gesturing to the booby trapped entrance, "is any indication, we will have more waiting for us."

Knowing she was right, Tony swallowed his pride and went off in search of Gibbs or Vance. Ziva, took her flashlight and shone it into the tunnel. She saw no obvious wires, but that didn't mean they weren't there. She gently took a step forward, letting the light run from top to bottom and side to side before taking another step.

It was going to be a long journey to the other end.

* * *

><p><em>Okay, McGee, you've just got a little more to go<em>.

"Can't," he groaned. He was now flat on the ground with no more strength inside of him.

_Yes, you can_. _Help is on the way_.

He reached out and grabbed at the ground, pulling himself up and forward. He knew he had to keep going. Just because Frank didn't intend to detonate the bombs now didn't mean he wouldn't soon get suspicious. He would expect to hear news of the disaster soon and would do anything to get the end result.

"Okay…" he whispered. "Okay, I can do this."

* * *

><p>Ziva had managed to avoid a couple of tripwires, but she was staying alert. After walking about twenty feet into the tunnel, she began to hear voices softly speaking. She took her gun and readied it just in case.<p>

"Okay," one of the voices said. "Okay, I can do this."

"Just keep going," another one said.

"I…I'm just so tired."

"Don't think about it, McGee."

McGee? Ziva continued toward the voices, both flashlight and gun in hand. When she rounded the corner, she was momentarily blinded by a bright light, causing her to stumble back a few steps and bring her arm up to shield the light. Then, just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Only her sole flashlight was there and the beam was shining into the face of a worn out Tim.

"Ziva!" he said. "Oh, thank God! You need to get out. This place is set to blow."

"I know, McGee. How did you get here?"

Tim tried to scramble toward her, to grab her and pull them both out of this ticking time bomb. In doing so, his foot caught on something and he fell to the ground, paralyzed with fear. "I think I hit a tripwire."

Ziva was doing her best to stay calm. "You did."

"So why hasn't the thing gone off?"

"You cannot move, McGee. A change in pressure could set it off. Just stay calm and as still as possible."

"Get everyone evacuated from the building," Tim said. "When they're gone I'll let it go."

His attempt at being heroic was unnecessary, though, and Ziva couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "No need for that," she said as she surveyed the bomb. "This is a simple one to disarm." She pulled out her tools, placing the flashlight in her mouth.

For Tim, time seemed to stop. He held his breath, certain that the bomb would blow at any moment. When he felt Ziva's hand on his shoulder, he jumped.

"It is fine, McGee. The bomb was sloppy and shoddy. Who put that together?"

Tim sighed in relief. "Frank. Frank Keller."


	5. Chapter 5

Gibbs, Tony, and Vance met the two of them halfway as they walked back to the building, with Tim leaning heavily on Ziva's shoulder. She was grateful to have help transporting him back. He was able to give them Frank's name and two agents were sent out to apprehend him. In the meantime, the building was evacuated and a bomb squad called in to take a look inside the tunnel.

"Not sure how long it's been there," Vance said as he looked at the entrance. "Before my time, not that that's saying much. If I had to guess, it may have been used as an escape passage during the World War II, or maybe even before that. I guess it just got lost in history."

"Until Frank Keller found it," Gibbs said. "Assumed he could make a quick buck."

"He may have too." Vance looked to Tim who was currently being checked out by Ducky. "How did you know to look?"

"Kate," Tim said without thinking.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I kept seeing and hearing Kate."

"You mean Agent Todd?"

He nodded. "She told me about the tripwires…got me through most of the tunnel."

Vance raised an eyebrow, but he didn't dispute Tim on the matter. While he didn't necessarily believe in ghosts, he didn't _not_ believe in them either.

"I believe that may have been an effect of the Dimethyltryptamine Mr. Keller injected into you," Ducky said as he treated Tim's wounds. "DMT trips can make it difficult to understand reality."

"I saw her before that, Ducky. And I saw her in the tunnel…I know I did."

"I heard two voices speaking," Ziva said. "And there was a light when I first ran into McGee."

"So you're saying it was true?" Tony asked.

"I am saying that there was something supernatural happening at that moment. Not everything can be explained."

Abby pulled Tim into a tight hug. "I'm just glad you're okay, no matter how you got out! I'm even willing to forgive you for breaking my decorations. Just don't do it again."

* * *

><p>With the threat of a bomb, the party had been cancelled and all employees were sent home. The building would be closed down until they were sure all bombs had been accounted for. In the meantime, they had found Keller at a coffee shop along 8th St. and had him in custody. He didn't last even ten minutes before giving up the names of the men who had hired him.<p>

Tim was mostly fine, save for a pounding headache and a desperate need for sleep. Ducky insisted he take two days and just rest. Vance and Gibbs agreed.

Gibbs gave Tim a ride home and helped him to his apartment. Satisfied that Tim would be going straight to bed, Gibbs headed out, leaving Tim with just Jethro and the headache. The former was ready for his own nap and the latter would be taken care of with a few aspirin.

Tim was just readying himself for bed and couldn't help but look out the window just as he had a few nights earlier. This time there was no face there, but this time he did see what had been written into the frost. He bent forward to read it:

_Merry Christmas, McGee  
><em>_Love, Kate_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>Thanks for reading!


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